


Tomato/Tomato, Potato/Potato, Cute/I Love You

by oakest



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Undercover Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24626071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakest/pseuds/oakest
Summary: There are lots of different ways to pronounce certain words. Luckily, Jane is fluent in Cho.
Relationships: Kimball Cho/Patrick Jane
Comments: 11
Kudos: 144





	Tomato/Tomato, Potato/Potato, Cute/I Love You

Even though Cho is surrounded by boisterous drunks and pumping bass that vibrates through the soles of his shoes and into his bones, somehow, Jane is able to chuckle as if it's only the two of them in the club. Jane laughs quietly, and if Cho couldn't see that stupid impish smile from across the room he probably wouldn't notice it at all. But he can see it. He does notice it. The huffing laughter goes on and on in Cho's earpiece.

Jane knows exactly what he's doing, and when Cho pauses scanning the crowded room to glare at him, Jane knows it's working. That makes him laugh more, though, in his defense, he does try to curb it there. For the sake of the murderer or other they're trying to catch. Except maybe not really. Jane could put the idiot in jail seven ways to Sunday; he doesn't need this con to make it work. This just happens to be one in a long series of Jane's recent plans that mysteriously involve his boyfriend going undercover. He tells himself he's testing a theory.

He proved his theory right about three cases ago. He's just a little bit addicted to the mischief.

Cho hates clubs. Time seems warped inside clubs. There's always some DJ mashing all the songs together and strobe lights flashing over otherwise almost complete darkness. It's impossible to tell what time of day it is or how much time has passed. He thinks clubs would be infinitely better if they just had windows. They need a little natural light, a view of the world outside. (A better janitor, too. The table he's standing at is sticky with spilled beer.) Cho checks his watch for the fifth time this minute. He's not usually this impatient, but Jane is still smirking at him and trying to distract him. He doesn't like the look of that glint in his eye. He's starting to feel an inkling that the suspect isn't the only mark of this con. What Jane is getting at, he doesn't know, but Cho at least knows when he's being messed with. He can't stop his gaze from flitting back to the bar. Jane is sitting on a stool and swinging his feet like he's having the time of his life. He's helping himself to one of those drinks that comes with an umbrella as if he isn't on the job. Cho sighs.

“You here all alone, handsome?” Suddenly, some brunette is pressing herself against Cho's side, looking up at him. She's so drunk she's nearly drooling. Cho looks away. He needs to get out of his own head. He hadn't even noticed her approaching him. Considering his job right now is to be noticing people: not good.

“No. My boyfriend is getting us drinks at the bar,” Cho says. The drunk girl whines.

“Great. 'Course. Always gay, that's just my luck,” she mutters. Her heels click away, and Cho brings the world around him back into focus. The dance floor is too packed to make out anything distinctly. Jane assured him he was looking for a wallflower, though, so Cho assesses the other tables scattered near the club's walls. Nobody is popping out yet. He sweeps back to the bar. He tries to let his eyes run over Jane without getting distracted again. He really does try. But when he squints for a second, he sees the bartender handing Jane two glasses. He's about to scoff - two at once is a bit much, even for Jane's eccentricities - but then Jane hops off his stool and makes a beeline in Cho's direction.

“What are you doing?” He asks under his breath. He knows Jane can hear him on comms because his smile stretches ever wider. Jane apparently doesn't feel the need to answer. He just keeps winding around dancing strangers to make it to Cho. As he gets closer, Cho can see that Jane is holding one fruity drink and one tall, clear glass. He gets bumped into a couple times and almost spills them both. Cho resists the urge to roll his eyes. It isn't easy.

“Jane, what are you doing?” Cho hates how often Jane makes him repeat himself. Jane's smile overflows into a little laughter.

“I'm your boyfriend, I got us drinks from the bar,” he answers as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Cho glares at him.

“I said that to make that girl walk away.”

“I know.”

“It was not an invitation.”

"I know." Damn that smile.

Cho sighs. He looks around the room, partly to make sure he hasn't missed the killer, and partly to make sure no one is looking at them. Jane knows he's won then, and giggles some more. Cho has a vague inclination that grown men shouldn't giggle so much. It's distracting. “I'm not going to drink on the job.”

“Water, promise,” Jane assures him, holding out the tall glass while sipping on his own fruity drink. Cho reluctantly takes it. Before drinking any, he brings it under his nose to test. Jane forces an offended scoff. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“No,” is all Cho says, but he does take a sip. It’s just water. Jane smirks at him triumphantly. He’s half surprised Jane doesn’t just stick his tongue out at him.

“See? What did I tell you?” He goads. Cho doesn’t answer, scanning the room again over Jane’s shoulder. Jane purposefully leans directly into Cho’s line of sight, smile big enough to split his face. “Hi.”

Jane keeps giggling, and goddammit, Cho can’t help it. He breaks. It’s just a twitch of a smile, but Jane catches it. Of course Jane catches it.

“Oh, a-ha.” Jane points at Cho, scrunching up his shoulders and cooing. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

Cho rolls his eyes. Jane won’t give up. “C’monn,” he drawls. “Admit you love me.”

Cho drinks his water, lets Jane plead for a minute longer. Finally, he places his water glass down on the sticky table. He turns to look at Jane. Jane tilts his head and makes puppy dog eyes.

Cho shakes his head, smile blooming, but he never looks away from Jane. “You’re cute.”

Jane beams. “I love you, too.”


End file.
